The river melted back into its proper channels. As Trynne lifted her head, she saw the shattered docks on the palace side and the shattered trees on the other. Her shoulders slumped and she started sobbing with relief and shame.
There was a hand at her shoulder, an arm around her back. She thought it was her mother at first, but when she glanced up, she saw it was Morwenna. The shame twisted into despair.
Sinia gasped and also knelt down on the ground.
“Lady Montfort,” Morwenna said with deference and even a touch of reverence. “I’ve never seen . . . never known . . . such power. You saved Kingfountain.”
Trynne squeezed her eyes shut, stifling her sobs and trying to master herself. If she hadn’t expended so much of her power in Brugia, she would have been able to hold the shield easily. Yet the Fountain had bidden her to compete in the Gauntlet. Why? She couldn’t make sense of it—she didn’t want to try. Inside, she felt ruined and stricken with remorse. So many people could have died . . . She didn’t know how she would have borne the grief. And yet she’d followed another oath, hadn’t she? Never refuse to serve when the Fountain calls . . .
So why did she still feel so empty inside?
“Thank you for joining with your power, Morwenna,” Sinia said, clasping her hands.
“What I did was such a little thing,” Morwenna said meekly, “next to what you did. Truly you are Fountain-blessed.”
When Trynne looked up at her mother, she saw the disappointment in her eyes. She would never admit to her displeasure aloud, but she could no longer hide that from her daughter.
King Drew had summoned the members of his council to meet at the Ring Table following the aftermath of Rucrius’s display of magic. Trynne didn’t feel she deserved to be in the room, but she had been asked to stay. Her parents were both there, which was unusual enough. It turned out that Morwenna had brought Fallon to Kingfountain following the Gauntlet of Brugia. They had arrived amidst the commotion. Fallon had attended the meeting to represent his parents, and Morwenna had also been invited to stay. Lord Amrein and the queen rounded out the group.
Trynne wished Myrddin were there as well. She couldn’t help but believe that his presence would have prevented the disaster.
The king sat at the table, strumming his fingers on the polished wood. “My friends, what do you make of this calamity?” he asked in a bewildered tone. “Lady Sinia, if you hadn’t come when you did, all would be in ruin. There would be no city left to save.”
Sinia had been weakened by the ordeal, but she was still strong. “I came because of a vision,” she said. “I saw Trynne and myself holding off the flood. I knew I had to come, my lord.”
“A thousand times thank you,” Drew said. “You are the savior of Kingfountain today. Truly, the Lady incarnate. What was the purpose of this attack?”
“A declaration of war, surely,” Lord Amrein said gruffly.
“Indeed,” replied the queen. “In the olden days, kings would send challengers to issue their threats and warnings. It followed the principles of Virtus.”
“Did it?” Drew challenged. “They nearly drowned the city!”
Trynne’s mother shook her head. “That may not have been Rucrius’s intention.”
“What do you mean, Sinia? Say on?” The king gestured, keenly interested.
“He came here to issue the challenge. His display of magic was intended to show us that he knows more than we do. By stopping the river, he was proving that the protections of our sanctuaries wouldn’t protect us from him. Perhaps he wanted us to ask him to release the river tamely. To beg for it.”
The king’s eyes narrowed angrily.
“To force our humility,” Owen said thoughtfully. He took his wife’s hand. Trynne’s heart lifted slightly at the show of affection.
Fallon stopped pacing. “So what I understand is that this Rucrius fellow came and said that this pretend-king Gahalatine would launch an attack, fight all nobly and honorably, and then claim our kingdom fairly? Is that the gist of it? Well, I think it’s a gambit. They want to draw all of our forces away from Kingfountain and then attack it while it’s undefended. Isn’t that what you would do, Lord Owen?”
Trynne wished she had the courage to speak up at that moment. But her self-confidence had been shattered. She felt her magic slowly returning, trickle by trickle, but she didn’t even have the power to get back to Brythonica.
“Fallon could be right,” Owen said, looking concerned. “It could be a diversion. Or perhaps Chandigarl does not operate under the same bans that we do. Sinia’s vision from earlier showed that there was going to be a great battle.”